Tag Archives: psychic

The Clairvoyant and the Exiled Prince.

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He needs her. Sturn brought Aleisha into the team specifically for a reason.

Acceptance of perception beyond the five physical senses has ebbed and flowed throughout history. Societies have embraced it, feared it, rejected it, and embraced it again. Right now, in Sturn’s Empire, psi is accepted and utilized.

Sturn has been exiled, banished from the hub of Khekarian Rule ten years before. Capturing a specimen of alien-native that might help the war effort, will go a long way to getting him accepted back within the Imperial Court. Having a psychic’s insights will help him to know the right moment to advance, the right people to contact and guide a safe path for his return to power.

It doesn’t matter that Aleisha is unwilling. It doesn’t matter how bad she is at it. There are truthseers to keep her in line. Anyway, she’s all he’s got.

This is Sturn’s viewpoint in The Khekarian Threat. He has no interest in respecting the thoughts and desires of anyone else. He’s Khekarian royalty, he doesn’t have to care.

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DEADLY SERIOUS – From the Khekarian Threat, out now on Amazon.

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One of the women broke away from the activity around the semitrailers and headed in. She was tall and well-toned, dressed like a soldier, wearing the baggy khaki trousers and matching singlet top associated with the military pretty much everywhere. While the outfit and corresponding boots might point to someone playing the part, the belt loaded with equipment denoted something altogether more serious. Aleisha felt her first moment of apprehension.

Her hair was regulation short, almost shaved, but what was there was dark and sleek. It suited her, she had the bone structure and striking facial features to carry it well. Deadly good looks, Aleisha thought, the emphasis perhaps on deadly. The woman looked severe.

Aleisha tuned in to sense what she could, letting her energy expand outwards to gently connect with the stranger. She still hoped the outer image was some kind of display, a pseudo-persona, a toughness to show the world, but it wasn’t softness within that she met, it was a solid wall of vibrant, ruthless energy that blasted outwards with unexpected force.

The presentation was accurate.

No. The presentation was a hint.

Take the soldier, the training, the severity, and multiply that a hundredfold, that’s what was walking towards the office. This woman was all about combat.

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HARSH WELCOME – From The Khekarian Threat, out now on Amazon.

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Ruthless looked as tired and worn as Tanya. This morning her hair had been a checkerboard of black and white squares, tufts twisted into messy spikes. Now the white squares were ochre with road dust. Knowing it, she ran her hand briskly through her tufts and let the cloud of dust fall away from her. “Christ, this stuff gets everywhere.”

“Down my throat for starters,” Tanya said. “C’mon, let’s get out of here. I want a long hot shower and a long cold beer.”

They headed to the next rig. On the way, Ruthless glanced with interest towards Charlie’s office. “Do you think she’s in there?”

“Who?”

“The newbie, the seer.”

Tanya snorted. “Don’t think about her. She won’t last.”

“Who’s collecting her, then?”

Tanya looked grim. “Who do you fucking think?”

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Eddies of Astral Light and Form – From The Khekarian Threat, out now on Amazon.

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Thain did not understand the melodious sing-song chirp of mammalian communication, but he watched the pretty patterns form around their heads as the old male and the young female spoke together. Some patterns lived but briefly, others lingered and grew, creating future paths for these strange and alien creatures.

The astral impinged upon both the dense physical plane and his own lighter etheric realm where life was as easily influenced by thought and emotion. In either world, the forms and shapes and pretty colors escaped direct observation. If he truly entered this densest sphere, the physical, the pastel thought designs would disappear and these creatures would become plain and mundane, mostly ugly and clumsy to his eye. If he transitioned to his own realm, he again lost the astral pictures and perception of this world, too.

It was the hues and structure of these astral prototypes that informed him most clearly what their communication was about, although some of the imagery was easier to read than others. The traveling group he had accompanied for half a year thought a lot about eating and a lot about mating. It was not offensive, the members being young people full of life and hunger. Some of them thought about mating nearly all the time.

All thoughts presented pictures. Some thoughts were light and brought laughter. Other thoughts were dark and brought menace.

With the endless patience of his kind, Thain observed the emotions in this room as they sparked and drifted in colorful array, pumping out great swathes of tints and form as the two talked, beautiful eddies breaking away into swirls and ribbons, active for a time in their own right before dissipating. The constants stayed. Renewed thought grew stronger, thicker, denser, building up the colors of the aura into often magnificent rainbows of intent and function.

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There’ll Be a Body – From The Khekarian Threat, out now on Amazon.

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“Maybe you picked up on something else. Did you consider that?”

His words produced another moment of reflection. “Not connected to the team at all?” She wondered if that was possible and was momentarily heartened. “Is there a maniac on the loose?”

“Not that I’m aware of.”

“There’ll be a body.”

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The Old Man of Cenoth won’t believe her – From The Khekarian Threat, out now on Amazon.

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Charlie exhaled a sigh of mild annoyance. This child had seemed so level-headed when he met her. Excited, young, like a kid on Christmas morning, but sensible, too, a good head on her shoulders. Then came the nightmare and all the joy had gone out of her.

“If there is such a thing as a killer on the loose, what makes you think he will target you?”

“I don’t know. Fear maybe. This knife was, like, huge.”

“Personally, I think it was too much pepperoni on our pizza the night before.”

“Pepperoni?” Aleisha queried, her tone sharpening. With nimble grace and a burst of frustration she sprang up, arriving at his desk and landing in one of the chairs opposite him. “That is an insult, Charlie. Did you dream about him, too?”

“Don’t be silly, I don’t suffer from nightmares. Perhaps it was the cheese.”

“I know the difference between clairsentience and cheese! Anyway, I was wide awake.”

“You thought you were wide awake.”

“I know what wide awake is, Charlie. I was wide awake.”

“Not when it began, right?”

Yes, when it began.”

“You dreamt you were awake.”

She glowered at him. “Did I dream that I got out of bed, that I disturbed you and you came to find out what was wrong? We had mugs of hot cocoa, at what point did I really wake up? Wouldn’t I have gotten out of bed twice?”

Charlie tried a scowl of his own. “Okay, Oh Smart One. Why don’t you accept what an old man says and put all this worry behind you.”

“What about the alien-native? Didn’t that confirm the experience to you? They’re real, you said so.”

“I said no such thing! Anyway, you said it was a ghost.”

“And you said they had a reputation for appearing and disappearing.”

“Which doesn’t exactly make them real. They’re a myth.”

“I didn’t know about the myth, Charlie.”

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ALIEN STALKING – From The Khekarian Threat, now available on Amazon.

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She wiped a sheen of perspiration from her cheek and looked at her hand.

He would be seeing blood, the murderer.

Aleisha mentally searched through the images, trying to filter out meaning, but these people were strangers to her. The killer was huge. Tall huge. Muscle huge. Not a bodybuilder, just big and strong and unstoppable. Somehow linked…

Her thoughts solidified into mental stumbling blocks, toppling her into near panic. She stared into the mirror, horror building in her eyes, appalled at the realization.

No. The murderer could not be linked to her, to where she was heading, to what she was doing here. Yet he was, she knew it even as she fought to deny the possibility.

He was there.

There in the team of strangers she had crossed this part of the galaxy to join, there savoring the opportunities that travel in isolation gave him. There, active and hunting.

Aleisha moved forward, swinging open the door and hurrying into the hall. She needed to talk. She needed Charlie.

Behind her, line and shadow materialized, movement coming through the wall of her bedroom.

Color flooded in, bringing caramel skin and russet markings.

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ALIEN-NATIVE OF ZUMARIDI – From The Khekarian Threat, now available on Amazon.

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He looked reptilian to her. He had no hair, no fur, no eyelashes, yet his face was streaked with highlighting that added mammalian warmth and mammalian expression. Aleisha didn’t know what she was seeing.

Clearly of a primitive society, his clothing was a broad strip of cloth, although the drape of material that wrapped between his legs and around his waist was folded and tucked to a meticulous design. It was the color of shadows – he was the color of shadows, an interesting mix of browns and reds and charcoal.

His eyes captivated her, the one feature that stole  her breath away. They were large. They were expressive. Soft eyes currently frowning, they did not look reptilian at all. Intelligent eyes, Aleisha thought, eyes with streaks over the lids, giving them natural mascara, eyes with depth and feeling. Cougar eyes. The irises were russet, the vertical slits of his pupils narrow black lines.

It took just a moment to take all this in, a moment to feel awe at his presence, then Aleisha realized why her heart pounded with fear. She was seeing him clearly enough and he was also seeing her, staring at her, which was simply not possible. Aleisha wasn’t present – her perception was, but not her body. She gave him nothing to focus on.

The murderer was still occupied, now lowering himself with the woman’s body, wrapped up in the odor and the color of her life-blood. How could he not notice such a towering presence right beside him?

There was no time to work it out. The alien-native’s stare was fixed on Aleisha and he came forward, moving with sudden purposeful intent, stepping through both corpse and killer. Speeding forward now, he surprised her afresh, literally melting from her view.

Color washed from him first, becoming shades of grey before disappearing altogether, immediately followed by form. Line and shadow faded into nothingness.

The experience ended in that confusion, dropping Aleisha back into physical plane limitations.

Quaking, still leaning forward, a hand over her heart, she blinked, then breathed deeply, trying to fathom meaning.

What was he, a ghost?

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ALIEN WATCHING! From The Khekarian Threat, now out on Amazon.

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The experience should be finished now. Aleisha’s frown deepened when she realized the connection wasn’t fading, that something else was keeping her there. A strength tugged at her awareness, close to the victim.

Someone was looking at her. Not the killer, someone else. Something else. She could see him clearly now. He wasn’t Terran. He wasn’t Khekarian or Chiddran.

Terrans and Khekarians had just about everything in common and were believed to come from a single source. The Chiddran, also humanoid, were dissimilar and quite distinctive. All were mammal.

This species was something quite different.

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THE BLOOD AND THE MURDER AND THE PSYCHIC – From The Khekarian Threat, now out on Amazon.

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The knife was wet with blood, the handle slippery with it, the huge blade dark and crimson. He was splashed with its color, drenched with its odor. The coppery smell, warm and fresh, filled his nostrils and lungs, exciting him.

There came no warning. Clairsentient experience blasted Aleisha with horrifying abruptness, the great ugly weapon physically somewhere else, yet at the same time up beneath her ribcage, slicing her heart in two.

Tactile experience was always the worst part, the touch and feel of every sensation immersing her right into the action, but clairvoyance and clairaudience gave her sight and hearing, completing the experience for her. Aleisha knew the event was physically remote, but the real-time encounter didn’t feel remote at all. For the duration it was her flesh, her experience.

The knife had punched into the victim, panic slamming the woman, her heart slashed open so quickly that everything washed out. Splashed out. No time to feel the promise of death, no time even for pain.

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